Matt looked at his watch, and then looked out the window. He could just see the runner at the bottom of the street. He was right on time. Matt had no idea who the buff stud was that ran by every day at the exact same time, but he loved the way the guy moved, and the way he looked. He always wore the same yellow nylon running shorts - the kind that have a liner and are super light weight. He looked at his selection on the Chronivac screen, and smiled. He hit enter. The timer started counting down. The runner was halfway to Matt's house now. His watch slipped over his hand and off his wrist. His body was becoming ephemeral, and shiny yellow. Matt grinned as he stood naked over the pile of his clothing. The runner was right in front of his house.
Derek Matthews ran 15 miles a day. He was training for a marathon. He was a man of habit. He wore the same clothes, had the same routine every day. Ran the same route that went by Matt's house. He was in midstride, when he felt a cool breeze on his crotch. It was like for a moment, his shorts weren't there, but then they were again. He glanced up at the friendly yellow house he was passing. He thought he would miss not seeing it every day, but as part of his training, he had to up his run to 20 miles, and that meant taking a different route. He might never run down this street again.
He continued running for eight more miles. He was sweating profusely when he reached his house. Well outside the Chronivac's two kilometer range, and with plans to run the opposite direction for the next two months, Matt was not likely to be changing back any time soon. It had never occurred to Matt that his 24 hours as the mystery runner's shorts might turn into a marathon of monthly proportions. How could he have known that the day he became the runner's shorts was the last day that the runner would be in Matt's neighborhood.